


Sex with a Ghost

by 1ynne



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Hallucinations, Lust, M/M, Minecraft, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:35:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1ynne/pseuds/1ynne
Summary: Dreams life takes a turn and he is forced to question everything he thought he knew once he starts experiencing hallucinations of his best friend, George.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	1. Cat Food

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by the song, “Sex with a Ghost” by Teddy Hyde! im planning for it to have multiple chapters, so if you like this one maybe stick around! :)  
> (the series will have spicy moments between Dream and George so ;) )

“What? That’s not fair!! THATS NOT FAIR!”

George’s exasperated cry came from his headphones. Dream grinned as he saw the message come up in the bottom left hand side of the screen.

_“GeorgeNotFound was knocked off the edge by Dream”_

“Sucks to suck.” Sapnap chuckled, his character running from inside his base to his bed defense.

Dream laughed, “You say that as if you didn’t fall off the edge last game.”

“That was one game!”

“One game today.”

He could practically feel Sapnaps eye roll through the call. 

Dream glanced over to Sapnaps bed defense. It wasn’t much, wool over a small mountain of what he presumed was endstone. 

However unlike George, Sapnap was unpredictable, so he could have obsidian under the mostly unassuming display.

Sapnap walked out of his base in shiny diamond armor. 

“Dreamy-poo! I see you!” Sapnap taunted, jumping up and down a few times, clicking rapidly as he swung his enchanted sword in the air.

Dreams brows furrowed in concentration as he switched slots to his stack of wool. He began speedbridging his way to his friends island.

“Oh-“ Sapnap muttered, “no- no you don’t- no you don’t!”

Dream knew what he was doing mere seconds before he felt the impact. He flung his mouse around and started towering desperately. The impact of the fire charge almost knocked him off his tiny platform; he was barely able to cement himself on a single wool block in the air.

“Ooh!! The clutch!!” George’s praise radiated through his headphones.

“COME ON!” Sapnap yelled in frustration.

Dream jumped from the remainder of his bridge and landed behind the player who spun around, disorientated.

He pulled out his diamond sword and started spam clicking.

“JUST YOU AND ME DREAM!!” 

A series of yesses were followed by a series of desperate nos.

_“Sapnap was slain by Dream”_

“NO!” Sapnap screamed, slamming his desk in frustration.

He brought out his shears and quickly broke the outer layer, then middle, then pulled out his pick for the obsidian. 

_So close, so close-!_

The obsidian disappeared, leaving the bed exposed. 

Sapnap screamed, running at him with a wooden sword, but it was too late. 

_“Sapnaps bed was swapped for milk and cookies by Dream”_

“OH SAPNAP!” Dream screamed giddily.

“GET AWAY GET AWAY!” Sapnap made a 180 and started booking it down a bridge to diamonds, but he wasn’t fast enough.

Sapnap was dead in a few hits.

“HAHA- YES!” Dream let go of his mouse and punched the air victoriously, his mind flooded with the shallow euphoria of being better than his friends at bedwars.

“What was that, three times in a row against you guys?” 

George yawned, either from exhaustion or to feign boredom, Dream couldn't tell. “Shut up. If you hadn’t surprised me there’s no way that would’ve happened.”

“Oh, come on.” Dream felt a grin break out onto his lips. He wasn't going to let them being sore losers sour his victory.

“We have to rematch, come on. We can’t let him win that easily.” Sapnap insisted in his typical stubborn fashion.

“I’m tireddd.” George whined through the call, a soft yawn ebbing his way into words.

Sapnap scoffed. “George you sleep for 14 hours a day, how are you tired?”

“Look, at least my sleep schedule isn’t as messed up as your guys.” To prove his point, George suddenly flipped the discussion on Dream. “Dream, when did you wake up?”

He grimaced, “...Do I have to answer that?”

“See?”

“Whatever. I’m gonna start calling you Snorlax.”

“Since when have you been into Pokémon?”

“Since now, Snorlax.”

“Kinda cringe Snapmap.” He mocked through gritted teeth.

“I’m kinda tired too.” Dream broke in, getting weary of listening to them argue.

“Oh,” Sapnap paused, a twinge of disappointment seeping into his voice. “okay.”

He felt bad for leaving Sapnap alone, but it was true, he was genuinely exhausted. He had stayed up working on editing a new analysis video for his second channel, not to mention trying to balance semi-consistent uploads in his new shorts channel. 

He hadn’t slept in 30 something hours and his energy had been drained completely. Usually he'd call it quits once the light and dark of his vision had started to blur together, but it had been a good ten hours since he had been able to make out the vibrant colors on his illuminated monitor.

A voice cut through his thoughts. “I’ll see if Purpled is on.” 

“That’s great, you two can be losers together.” George quipped lovingly.

“Shut up Gogy.”

The call went silent, one Dream was thankful for, but also couldn't help feel slight disappointment when hearing it. There was always a moment of hesitation at the end of every call, each one of them waiting for someone to opt out first, daring to leave the comfort of familiar conversations and laughs. Once someone took the plunge, the sea silence swallowed them whole, and Dream was left alone again.

Alone.

George’s sigh finally cut through the silence. He stepped up to the plank teetering dangerously over rolling waters. “Alright, imma go to bed. See you.” He jumped.

“Bye.” His mouth felt dry.

“Bye.”

He heard the familiar discord disconnection sound. He was gone.

Dream drummed his fingers lightly on his desk, feeling his eyelids droop. “Yeah," His face convulsed as he heard the feedback of his hoarse voice, "-I’m gonna head out to.”

He could hear Sapnaps noisy keyboard on the other end of the line pause. “...Alright, bye Dream.”

“Seeya Sap.” He jumped in after him.

The little mouse clicked cheerfully on the exit button. He closed discord and rubbed his stinging eyes. 

He needed sleep. 

Dream silenced his phone and left it on the desk, lazily dragging his feet to his bed. He went limp and allowed himself to fall face first into the fluffed pillows, groaning. Maybe if he sunk deep enough, he'd fall through into soft blankets and gentle dreams.

He didn't. 

Winters weren't that cold in Florida, in fact it was almost always sunny.

_Then why is it so cold?_

_Jesus, is it just my AC?_

Dream sat up, rubbing his cold arm absent mindedly. Feet swung to the edge of his bed and he hoisted himself up, clawing lazily at his shirt and less ting it fall to the floor. Soft frigid air hit his chest immediately and he shivered, stumbling into his closet mindlessly reaching for any long sleeve he could find.

He pulled on a cotton T and flopped back onto his bed, closing his eyes determinedly. He balled up his warm blankets in his fists and turned to his side, trying to slow his breathing and focus on the milky darkness behind his eyelids.

Minutes passed, hours;

nothing. 

He tried again;

and nothing.

He opened his eyes groggily, his lips let out an agitated sigh

It was as if his body was teasing him, holding sleep in front of his eyes but before he could grasp it, it was pulled just far enough away from his reach. It was starting to get agitating how frequent the infrequency of rest was becoming. He couldn't keep functioning like this forever.

He felt something soft and warm brush against his bare legs and he jumped. Dream sat up and let his eyes adjust. He focused, and made out the dark outline of a small cat. Patches nudged her head against his chest comfortingly and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. 

“Come here girl.”

He scooped the small cat into his arms and nuzzled her warm body against his chest. His fingers lovingly stroked her ears. She brought two paws up and gently pawed at his gray T-shirt, mewing softly. 

“What? You hungry?”

She pawed him again, mewing a little louder.

“Okay, okay,” He sat up begrudgingly, his body aching to return to his comforter, “let’s get you something to eat.”

Dream gently picked her up and placed her on the bed. He got up and stretched before making his way out of his dark room.

His feet scuffed the carpet as he made his way to the kitchen, rough hand raking through his mildly greasy hair. Patches eagerly followed close behind. The kitchen was dimly lit and dark, the only window in the room filtering in warm sunlight speckled with dust alleviated the shadowed atmosphere. The fact that nearly every room in his house was dim could only contribute to the drowsiness knotting itself in his mind.

He opened the cupboard to find it barren all for a few half eaten bags of crackers. 

“That’s weird.” He muttered to no one but himself.

He opened the next cupboard, still, no cat food.

“Did we run out?” Dream looked down at Patches in question to which she meowed softly in return.

He bent down and pet her head which she was more than happy to accept. 

“I’m sorry girl, I’ll go to the store to get you some food.” He promised.

The only thing he wanted to do right now was pass out, but Patches had gotten him through things that he couldn't have gotten through without her silently comforting him. Through every breakup, every fight, every day, week, and month swallowed in panic attacks and tear tracks. She had softly leaned into his shaking body, a small warm affirmation that things would be all right in the end. And they were, eventually.

The least he could do is take care of her properly.

She tilted her head as he got to his feet with quiet determination. He slipped back into his bedroom, grabbing his crumpled Florida Gators sweater lying on his bed.

He finished getting ready, and stepped out of his room, walking towards the door and grabbing the keys from the small key rack his mom had bought him.

The jingle of his car keys made Patches perk up, trotting her way over to him. He felt her brush against his jeans and smiled.

“I’ll be back.” He smiled, leaning down to pet her one last time before the door shut behind him.

His eyes scanned the various sizes of bags of cat food, searching the labels. Various photoshopped pictures of happy cats covered the cover of different foods, one tabby even looked like Patches. 

Dream spotted a smiling man on different bags and cans, and grabbed it. “Newman’s Own Organics.” He mumbled to himself.

_I got the yellow labeled one last time-right?_

_Or- was it the purple?_

He grabbed a few of each just in case. His mom would know. He felt like a bad pet owner for not knowing what food his cat ate.

Dream walked towards the cashier, cringing when his sneakers screeched shrilly against the tile. His head spun from a mixture of exhaustion and overextending himself. 

The cashier smiled at him patiently. “Long day?”

“Long night.” He muttered, not bothering to give explanation. His eyeline found the window, staring into the fog of the overcast sky. He could make out the outline of his own transparent reflection behind the cashier, and from what he could see he must’ve looked like a mess. 

“Your total is seventy-one and ninety three cents!” She chirped.

He fumbled in his wallet for his credit card and handed it to her.

“Thank you for shopping at PetSmart! Please come again!” Her enthusiastic voice relayed the preprogrammed salutation as she handed him his things, plastic bag sagging from the weight of the food inside.

“Thanks.”

He had barely stepped out of line as he heard her greet the next customer. Feet shuffled over to the sliding doors, a cool breeze brushing past his face as they slid open.

Dream breathed into the afternoon air. Florida was usually always sunny and warm; he’d never get used to the cold. 

People shuffled past him, walking down the sidewalk as traffic whizzed past. 

He found a nearby outside table and fell into the rigid metal chair.  
  
_Maybe I should pull a George and start sleeping through the day instead of not at all._ He mused, slumping into his uncomfortable position.

Dreams gaze fell to the bundles of people funneling out of the busy farmers market set up in the parking lot across the street. When he first moved into his house he didn’t have his room set up for recording or games, it was lonely, _still is,_ but he had found a suitable substitution. Whenever he was bored he’d sit on his kitchen sink, Patches curled up in his lap as he stared out at the people passing by. 

He found tons of interesting people, a tall woman in a yellow hat, a running teenager with an unzipped backpack, and a pair of guys arguing over something he couldn’t quite make out.

Dream sunk deeper into his chair, melatonin fighting his eyelids as he tried to keep his mind active as to not pass out and convince strangers he was a homeless person living outside PetSmart, as amusing and tempting that would be.

His eyes flickered to different faces. A group of people with matching shirts, a pair of chattering girls laughing, and a boy with dark hair standing on the side of the sidewalk.

Something about the boy was, off. He couldn't place it. Dream paused, squinted, focusing in on his face.

Pale skin and pink lips, he looked like he had dark eyes, but from here he couldn’t be sure, wearing a fitting gray hoodie and clout goggles that were pinned against his short hair.

_Wait-_

_I-is that?_

He nearly dropped the bag of cat food.

His mouth ran dry.

The british boys eyes met his own from across the busy street.

George smiled.


	2. Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorta filler chapter, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! stuff will happen in the next chapter tho ;)

Dreams eyes widened. 

It was George.

Definitely George.

His hair was styled the same way, wearing a gray hoodie.

“George?” He said not loud enough for anyone but himself to hear.

Infuriatingly, the British boy just, stared at him, a placid smile painted on his lips.

The people passing by didn’t seem to mind him, eyes glued to phones and chatter getting lost in the wind, completely ignoring the standing still brunette. 

“GEORGE!” He yelled a bit louder, jumping up from his chair. A couple brushed past him, staring at him in a mixture of confusion and alarm.

The light turned green and the traffic started to move. Big cars wizzed past, obscuring George behind them.

His eyes flicked rapidly, desperately searching to find George again. 

Red light, the cars slowed to a stop. 

George was gone.

Dream blinked.

_What the hell?_

_What the hell?!_

His hands flew to his pants as he searched his pockets for his phone, then sighed as he realized he had stupidly left it on his desk.

Had he just imagined it?

_Imagined George?_

He looked so real, he could’ve sworn it was him. 

_Could’ve sworn he was here._

The weight in his hands felt overly apparent, his heart slamming in an echo chamber of his thoughts. Dream looked down at his hands, his grip white with force.

He took a shaky breath and tried to relax his body. 

Dream got to his feet shakily, making his way back to his car.

Patches was very happy to finally get food. He was just glad that she was eating it at all. His mom was usually the one to make her food for her, so he wasn’t sure his messy attempt of replicating his mom's work would even be edible.

His fingers feverishly fumbled with his phone, refreshing page after page of George’s messages. 

The Snapchat messages had sat there, untouched. The last text he got from George was a quick, “hey wanna play bedwars with me and SappitusNappitus? :)” and nothing since then. Not even any new tweets.

He ran a hand through his hair, knuckles gripped at strands in desperation.

Dream forced a laugh. He felt like a stalker, obsessively searching his accounts and messages, trying to pick apart and reassemble their conversations to find any clues, any hints. Anything to suggest he was in Florida.

_Nothing_.

George wouldn’t do something like this, it wasn’t like him. At least, that's what he told himself.

“Was it really all my imagination?”

Patches looked up at him with dark eyes for a moment, then went back to devouring her food.

Dreams eyes flicked around the room, staring out the bright window for any traces of the brunets pale skin or the dumb clout goggles.

Nothing.

He wasn’t here.

Dream had been antsy while driving down the long roads back home. He kept glancing out his side mirror at the congestion of people walking down the sidewalks, looking for George.

But he wasn’t there.

Part of him felt terrified, and part of him felt strangely disappointed. To have George so close to him, he could run up to him and touch him. _Feel_ him.

Dreams fingers climbed their way to his face, covering his eyes sheepishly. 

_Okay, maybe not like that._ Quick thoughts scolded his subconscious.

_But, still._

_That would be nice, wouldn't it? For him to be here?_

So close he could touch him. Yet he was still so far.

“Fuck." He cursed, anything to wake him from his haziness. "Am I losing it?” He asked, looking down at Patches tiredly.

She didn’t even look up at him this time, tail gently hitting his feet.

His body was begging for rest, but his mind wouldn’t stop racing. He felt himself slide down the side of his wooden cupboards, hitting the tile floor. 

The cat looked up at him and tilted her head, her small mouth covered in bits of cat food. He smiled softly, and reached out his hand, petting her smooth back absentmindedly.

It wasn’t that big of a deal. He had imagined George while he was tired, that’s all. 

Tired.

_Sleep_.

God, he really needed to sleep.

He felt paws on his pant legs as Patches struggled to climb into his lap and stretch, curling into a loose ball, like they'd done this so often it had become a routine, but Dream didn't mind. She was so warm and soft beneath his hands. He felt his eyelids flutter, breathing slowing to a gentle rumble in his chest. He gave in and let his body plunge him deep into the welcome darkness.

He felt a paw on his face, then another. He groaned, eyelids fluttering. His eyes met feline pupils staring back at him.

Patches mewed softly and sat back down. Dream rubbed his eyes as colors filled his vision violently, snapping him to attention. His body groaned in complaint.

_Ow._

His tailbone ached against the hard floor.

Where was he?

His palm met the cold floor and he shivered.

_Oh._ He must’ve fallen asleep in the kitchen.

Patches quickly jumped off his lap as he slowly stood up, teetering slightly off balance. He felt a muffled buzzing sensation in his back pocket. Dream's hands patted his pants until he felt the outline of his phone and slipped it into his hands.

_4:32 pm?_

His eyes darted to the window frantically. It was light outside.

_Shit- did I really sleep 20 hours?_

The device impatiently buzzed again in his hand. His phone was exploding with notifications, discord pings and twitter replies.

He scrolled down the neverending chain of words, until his eyes glazed over a message from Bad.

_“Hey Dream!! How are you :)”_

His mind was still a blurry exhausted mess, but he clicked on the message. Bad always made him feel better when he was in a slump.

_“i just slept for like, 20 hours. Apparently i was really tired.”_ He typed, hoping he didn't misspell anything before hastily pressing the send button.

Bad got back to him almost immediately.

_“What did I say about not staying up for a long time??? >:(“ _

_“i know, i know im sorry. really. Ive just not been feeling great recently, thats all.”_

_“Oh.”_

The three dots appeared for a moment, before they vanished into the corner of the chat, then reappeared.

_“I’m sorry Dream :( is there anything I can do for you?”_

_“no, thanks tho. you’re a really great friend Bad”_

_“You are too, even if you are a muffin some time.”_

Dream smiled, but before he could respond Bad had texted again.

_“I love you <3”_

The small gesture made his heart hurt. He really was lucky to have Bad as a friend.

_“i love you too <3” _

He sighed again, heart feeling a little lighter. His hand moved to slip his phone back into his pocket. He felt another sudden buzz.

_“I hope whatever you’re dealing with gets better soon.”_

He clicked his tongue absentmindedly, slowly typing a response. Silently, he prayed his words wouldn’t jinx him.

_“Me too.”_

“Clay- could you help with this suitcase?”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He had received a call from his parents, telling him they were leaving town, and in order to feel less like a crappy son, he had volunteered to help them pack the car. 

Dream heaved as he struggled with a particularly heavy bag, slotting it between a paper Trader Joe’s bag full of snacks and a gray suitcase. It was a tight fit, but it would work.

Drista huffed, propping herself up in one of the back seats to glare at him through an otherwise disinterested expression. “You’re so boring. Why can’t you come with us?”

He scoffed, hoisting another suitcase into the car. “Don’t give me that, I have work.”

“Playing Minecraft." She corrected, "You can take three weeks off playing games with your friends.”

“You know it’s more than that.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes before turning around and slumping in her chair.

“Just- make sure to call okay?”

He turned to find his mom's kind eyes staring back at him.

Dream smiled, “Of course mom.”

She smiled, then stepped back, heading towards the garage, “Start the car for me, will you? I’m going to go get your father.” 

“Kay.” He squinted at the car, finding the small “close” button and pressing it. The back door shut with a _FWUMP._

He put his hands in his jean pockets, sneakers scuffed against the concrete. It was a nice day outside, sunnier than yesterday, hotter too. Just warm enough that a long sleeve tee would keep him warm throughout the day. Dream smiled at nothing in particular, feeling like an idiot, but a happy idiot. 

A hand slipped out from.his pocket and tugged the car door open, slipping inside. His eyes darted around for the keys, finally spotting them on the seat next to his. 

He could barely hear the muffled beats coming out of his sisters headphones as she softly hummed to the tune.

“What are you listening to?”

“Mm?” She glanced up at him.

“I said- what are you listening to?”

“Oh- Harry.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” She quipped, scrolling through her phone.

He laughed, “I didn’t say anything?”

The keys clicked into the slot and he turned them. The engine sputtered to life, gently roaring outside as the air conditioner started up. The cool breeze felt nice against his warm skin.

“No, but you were thinking it.” Green eyes met his, “I can tell.” She tapped the side of her head, grinning.

“Oh, so you’re a mind reader now?” He sat up in the chair and glanced up to the rear view mirror.

“Who’s to say I wasn’t before?”

He opened his mouth to retort, but stopped, the words dying in his throat. His blood ran cold.

He stared into the mirror at the half empty garage, walls lined with different sizes of bikes and some workshop tools hanging from boards, cascading into soft darkness. 

A figure stood just outside of the garage entrance, leaning against the stucco. 

George fiddled absentmindedly with his goggles, dark hair slightly tousled from where he had pulled them out. Soft pale skin radiated against the soft sunlight. 

_Oh god._

He suddenly melted into warm brown eyes through the mirror.

_Not this again._

His ears barely picked no the strands of sounds calling his name behind him. His throat tightened, eyes stuck to the figure who was smiling at him, _that stupid fucking smile_ , propping his glasses on top of his head again as he sunk back further against the wall.

“Clay.”

He felt a small hand on his shoulder. He turned to meet Drista, who was staring at him with a confused look. 

“You alright?” Her face broke out into a bemused grin as she studied his expression, “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

_Ghost. Ghost._ Ghost.

Dream cleared his throat. His heart felt like ice.

“Y-yeah. I’m good.” He conjoined his hands together and fiddled with them nervously. “Uh- what were we talking about?”

“I was asking…” she started again, subtly studying his face, “who your favorite artist is.”

After a moment of hesitation, he nervously looked back at the mirror. George was gone. Half of him felt relieved and the other half felt petrified.

“Oh,” he pursed his lips together, trying to stop his body from shaking. “Well- I don’t know. I guess I don’t really have one?” He tilted his head, mind spinning rapidly as he searched for something to talk about. Anything to get his mind off of… _him_. “Ranboo introduced me to this artist called Lemon Demon, I like them.”

Drista nodded, “They’re pretty cool-” she stopped herself, seeming to find something he wasn’t telling her in his eyes. “hey- are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah.” His voice cracked and he cringed. 

“Yeah.” He tried again, “Yeah I’m fine.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him, for a moment looking as if she was going to say more, but decided to drop it.

There was a sudden knock on the door and he jumped, half expecting it to be George, taunting him once again through thin glass.

His mom laughed lightly at him.

“Thanks again Clay, for helping.” His mom beamed, pulling open the door. “I really appreciate it.”

He tried for a smile. “Of course. Anytime.” 

Dream got out of the car and stepped onto the driveway, turning back to his mom who was now seated in the front seat. She rolled down the window.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” She asked softly.

He bit back the gnawing guilt he felt. “I’m sorry, I’d really like too, I just think it’d be better if I stayed here and got some stuff done, yknow?” _Figure some stuff out._

“I know,” she nodded understandingly, “will you try to join us next time?”

“Of course mom. I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

The window slowly rolled upwards, and he stepped back, watching as the car slowly rolled out of the driveway and onto the street. Drista waved at him through the window, he waved back.

Then they were gone.

He let his hand drop and looked up at the sky, clouds quickly rolling in in the absence of sun.

It was cold again.


	3. Street Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dream listens to the song inspo for this chapter >:)  
> Nodaways music deserves so much more recognition please check it out!!
> 
> anyway, in this chapter, dream listens to a song and gets a smooch from a ghost :)

The car slowed to a stop as it rested in front of a glaring red light. He took a second to look out the window at the sunset, admiring the way the vibrant and violent orangish yellows highlighting the outline of clouds blurred his sight in a beautiful mess.

The sky was gorgeous.

He let his hands fall and he leaned back into his upright chair. He pulled out his phone and fiddled with it, pulling open spotify and clicking on his discover playlist. 

Karl’s voice found its way into his thoughts.

_“You don’t strike me as a music kinda guy, Dream.”_

_"Why’s that?” Dream looked up to his monitor, battling pixelated zombies with his neon teen avatar in a silent rhythm._

_“I don’t know, just a hunch. What do you usually listen to?”_

_“Whatever’s on the radio, I guess.”_

_“That’s boring.”_

_Dream chewed the inside of his cheek, undeserved guilt settling in his chest._

_“Hey-“ The friendly tone intruded his thoughts once more, “You have a Spotify, right?”_

_“Yeah..?”_

_He’d decided to get one a while back when a fan had made a custom Spotify twitter, parodying different songs and artists he had shown slight interest in in the past._

_"They have those thing called Discover and it recommends songs and stuff to you based off what you listen to, I've found lots of cool songs from it.”_

His fingers swiped through the recommendations, lots of Ariana Grande, some TwentyOnePilots songs and other randoms filtered in.

He clicked on a particularly interesting cover, it was a picture of a woman without a head laying out on a blue backdrop. The song was called “Coming Attractions" by an artist he had never heard of before, Nodaway. 

He sat back, sinking tiredly into his leather cushion. The beats lulled his mind into autopilot, becoming absorbed in the music as his car rolled forward.

_I don’t believe in ghosts,_

_But I feel the most,_

_Sipping spirits._

_Spirits of my past,_

_Emptying up my glass,_

_You can hear them._

He couldn’t help but he reminded of George. He cringed at the fleeting thought, Dristas mocking voice chiding him.

_“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”_

Dream chest tightened, hands gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter. He drowned out his mind in music as the song continued;

_Why do you walk that way, girl?_

_Why do you talk that way?_

_Make an entrance._

_Hell, life’s a stage, tickets to your play,_

_A play for the middays._

He found himself humming along, drumming his fingers to the beat absentmindedly. It was catchy, and he let his mind become suffocated in the sound.

He couldn’t stop himself from paying too much attention to the lyrics however, trickles of anxiety frozen and turned into icicles, breaking away at his self-assurance piece by piece.

_Ghost._

Dream sat back on his bed, warm laptop propped up on his knees.

"Left or right?” Sapnap inquired through his headphones.

“Uhh...” He looked back at the screen, only half paying attention to his Minecraft surroundings. “right.” He watched as Sapnaps avatar did a one-eighty and started sprinting through a soulsand biome, timer ticking away in the corner of the screen.

Sapnap groaned as his character started to slow down as he ran across soul sand. He desperately placed netherack underneath him to no prevail. Dream smirked as violent keyboard noises filtered through the call. 

“You’re the worst.” 

“You asked me to decide?” Dream laughed, leaning back into his blankets. 

“Well yeah, but only because I trust your 7.5 trillion luck over my own.”

Dream rolled his eyes, and went back to scrolling through phone notifications in a thin silence.

"Yes- Dream you definitely are a stinky poo.” 

He glanced over at his screen, a donation popping up in the side of the stream. "hey sappitus! can you tell dream he is a stinky poo thanks”

His eyes glazed over the words as he sunk into his comforter, the violent blue light starting to hurt his strained vision. 

“Piglin get away- get away!!” He squealed. A piglin popped up in the corner of the screen, knocking him to three hearts.

“NOO!” He watched in mock amusement as Sapnap started to tower, feverishly trying to get away from the tiny hoarde that started to crowd him. Dream heard a crossbow being loaded, and suddenly Sapnaps view was knocked from the small tower as he fell to the netherack floor in a less than graceful smack.

The darkness in the room was illuminated by a light red glow as Sapnaps gameplay turned into a game over screen. 

He groaned in frustration. “I. Hate. Speedrunning.” 

A light chuckle bubbled out of his throat. “That’s only because you’re bad at it.” He purred, gaze flickering back to his phone.

“Shut the frick up, Dream, it’s only because the Piglins are bitches.”

“Right.” He grinned, watching as the chat filled with a mix of “NOOO” and “L.”

With a dejected sigh, Sapnap reset the 23:43 minute timer.

“Dreeeaam.” His friend whined, “Help meeee.” 

“I have taught you all my ways.” Dream smiled, “You just need practice.”

“‘Practice’ my ass,” he spat, “I just need better seeds.” He pulled up a new create world screen and booted it up, spawning on a small desert island. “Of course.” 

Closing his tired eyes, he ran a hand through his hair, sitting up abruptly and abandoning the laptop on his bed. He needed fresh air.

The open window spiked the warm room with a cool breeze and he shivered, moving to close it. His fingers fell to the latch but he paused, staring out onto the dark street. He examined the empty sidewalk, then found himself staring down at his driveway. He let out an unintentional gasp of shock. His heart felt like ice.

There was someone there, leaning against his parked car, dark silhouette illuminated by the streetlight overhead. The lenses of clout goggles shined as they sat on top of his head, as always, mocking him.

He was here,

at his house.

Why was he here?

Just to torture him.

Twice in a day? 

“Hey Sap.” His voice shook slightly. Dream cringed, and hoped his childhood friend wouldn’t pick up in the change in demeanor, the tremor in his voice.

“What’s up.” He seemed too indulged in the gameplay to take notice. 

_Thank god._

“I think- I’m gonna take a walk.”

“What? You’re gonna leave me?? Dreaamm.” He whined, voice coated in blatant clinginess.

"Just for a little bit, I’ll be back.“ He added apologetically.

“Whatever. I can’t believe you’re ditching me when I need you the most.”

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry! I’ll be back, I swear, bye.”

He sighed, “Bye.”

He closed his laptop with a quiet thud and pulled on his jacket, hurriedly slipping on his sneakers as he stumbled down the stairs. 

It was time he confronted his ghost.

"Here I thought you would ignore me forever.”

He paused at his door, lungs tight with an emotion he couldn’t fully describe. 

“It’s kind of hard to.” His voice sounded nonchalant, like this was an everyday conversation, a totally normal nighttime activity. “You kind of follow me.”

George shrugged and let out something that sounded like a laugh. His expression died down into something that looked like gentle admiration as soft brown eyes met his own.

“Hello to you too, Dream.”

He'd hate to admit it, but way George said his name slid down his spine like honey. He shivered.

“Hi.” He shifted his shoes awkwardly, a quiet blush spreading over his shoulders. All concept of conversation left him. He wasn’t sure what to say. What exactly was someone supposed to say in a situation like this?

“So-“ George brought a hand to his neck and rubbed it absentmindedly, “how are you?”

"Why are you here?”

His eyes widened slightly, elbows propping himself up on the side of the car. “You should ask yourself, you’re the one that invited me here.” 

Dream cocked his head in question, and he picked up on his confusion. George brought up a small hand and tapped himself on the head lightly.

_In your head._

Dream felt a sickening knot begin to tie itself in his stomach as he confirmed what he already knew.

“So this- you’re-“ His tongue dried.

George simply smiled apologetically at him, not easing the weighing burden he felt. He tilted his head slightly to stare at the pitch blackness of the night sky, glasses threatening to fall from his forehead.

“It’s a beautiful night out.”

The accented words felt like they would lull Dream into a dangerous trance. He liked when George talked to him, when it was just them on a call and they could speak unfiltered. He could hear the warmth in underlying tones. He was addicted to the way George could make him feel, and it was dangerous. Dangerous how much subconscious power he had over him, without even realizing it.

The brown eyes averted from his gaze, taking a step away from the car and pulling his attention from his thoughts to the George standing in front of him.

George was wearing a thin jean jacket over his hoodie, wearing baggy jeans and sneakers. He looked nice, comfortable, like how he looked on stream. Except this time, instead of his pale face being illuminated by his monitors, his small body was shuddered in darkness.

It felt so personal, the way he looked right now, looked at him right now. 

George smirked, catching his eyes and giving him a look that said;

_See something you like?_

“You look... nice.” George noted softly, a soft blush blooming across his cheeks.

Despite the impossibly ridiculous context of the situation, Dream let a laugh escape from his chest. It felt good to laugh. 

“I look like a fucking train wreck.” He managed, shoving a hand through his messy hair to prove his point. “But... thanks.” 

His grin widened, then tilted his head towards the sidewalk, looking back at Dream in question.

“Wanna take a walk?”

Dream looked down at George thoughtfully, mindful of trying to not walk too fast for his sake. 

Even in the dark, George looked pretty. His eyes were a pool of black, staring into the distance absentmindedly. The soft to glaring to soft again lights on the streets illuminated his soft features, bringing out his blush, the light gleam from his dark hair, his smile.

“How’ve you been? You... didn’t answer me before.” George humored, catching his eye with a sly smile.

“I’ve-“ He chewed the inside of his lip, knot resurfacing in his throat. Somehow, he felt compelled to tell him the truth, instead of the pretty lies he insisted were truthful to his friends.

_But this wasn’t real, right?_

“Honestly, I've been kinda shitty.” He admitted, sticking a cold hand in his pocket. “I’ve been overwhelmed, not for any particular reason really. I just haven’t been getting much sleep recently and it’s gonna make me go insane.” He laughed pitifully. “Well, I guess I already am, seeing as you’re here.” 

George frowned slightly. “I’m-“ he bit his lip and grimaced, “I never meant to make you feel like that, I’m sorry.”

“It’s more my fault. My own brain is why you’re here,” He didn’t think before he let his tongue slip, “haunting me.”

His gaze softened, “I haunt you.” His words felt like ice as he repeated the phrase, soaking them in.

Dream felt his mouth run dry, “No, not like that, it’s just,” he sighed. “I’ve really wanted to see you ever since we became friends, a-and i’m glad you’re here in any way you can be.” He admitted, “You just pop up out of nowhere and then you... you leave.” 

George went silent, face masked once again in overhanging darkness. When he could see make out his expression again, there was a hint of a smile. 

He abruptly stopped walking, causing Dream to stop too. He looked back at the brunette with a question in his eyes.

He pursed his lips coyly, “How about...” He felt fingers touch his own, skin burning at the touch. “I don’t leave then?” Then a palm sliding, fitting next to his. The small hand was warm, clasping against his cold touch. It felt scarily real. 

He was so close, their faces separated by still air mixed with warm breath. Brown eyes melted helplessly into his own. 

“I’d like that.” He mumbled softly. He set aside his own racing thoughts muddled in confusion and overwhelming emotion and let himself drown in the moment. 

He needed to stop, like, right fucking now. This was too much. But he didn't want to stop. He had been handed this opportunity to see George, to touch him and feel him, and he wanted that. 

He resisted the urge to cup George’s face in his hands and sunk into his expression, breath quivering in excitement. He never wanted to take his eyes off him. Drink him in, feel his warmth in his hands. 

George raised an eyebrow at his friend, then squeezed his hand gently. “You’re so soft.”

Dream scoffed, pulled out of the momentary fantasy, “Oh, shut it.”

George started to walk again, pulling Dream down the sidewalk.

“You have a nice neighborhood.” He observed, as if nothing had happened. As if this was totally normal.

“Yeah, it’s pretty here, quiet.”

He tried to give in to the fact that nothing with this George, whatever he was, would be normal. Something inside Dream liked that.

“Only because you have a soundproof room. This place would become a lot louder without it.”

“You’re one to talk. When you scream, you scream. You’re really loud.”

“Aww but Dreamie, I thought you liked it when I scream.” He pouted, knocking their interlaced fingers against his hip teasingly.

He blushed violently, caught off guard. In all honesty, Dream should’ve expected him to pull some shit. He silently cursed himself for how he hadn’t prepared for it. It was George, after all.

“Relax” George laughed lightly, seemingly enjoying his flushed expression, “I’m joking.”

They walked the rest of the way in comfortable small talk, the warmth in his hand was comforting and it spread across his body in a soft thudding heat. His brain went into autopilot, his ears picking up on every movement, every soft exhale and quiet laugh. He didn’t know how much he loved it until he had it, and now it was in his hand. Almost. 

They paused at his garage door, and Dream looked at George in anticipation, who’s eyes glazed over his. He could’ve sworn he caught them slip to his lips for half a second. 

His heart hammered violently against his chest.

He stood a little taller, leaning in and coming face to face with Dream. He could feel teasing hot breath on his face and his breath hitched, eye contact unwavering. 

George leaned in without warning or disregard for the quiet gasp he dragged out of his lips. He pressed a kiss to his cheek, lips soft and warm.

As soon as he felt the gentle contact, it was gone. He pulled away slightly and stepping back, a small smile in his eyes.

“Bye, Dream.” The words were barely above a whisper, hushed in promise.

Their fingers came undone and he blinked, dazed.

George was gone. 

Dreams skin felt like fire under invisible lips, the silence in his driveway had never been so deafening.

He reached up to touch his cheek softly, and felt recognition of sudden overwhelming want, _need._

_Oh god._


	4. Ham Sandwich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do yall like these wack ass titles lmao
> 
> anyway, this was a little bit of a shorter chapter between george and dream. trying to get into writing more so i used this as a warm up! i hope you like it :)
> 
> DISCLAIMER: i am in no way insinuating that Dream is messed up due to his ADHD or other possible mental illnesses!! i also have ADHD/ADD so in some way its me projecting my own insecurities onto his character, please do not misinterpret!!  
> oh also dream and fundy arent legit dating lmao its just for the smp lore

He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Or more accurately, he couldn’t stop thinking about _him._

Dream rubbed his fingers lightly over his burning face. His cheek still the ghost of lips hovering over his sensitive skin.

Layers of soft cloth stuck to his back against his bedsheets. It was warm, sweaty, suffocating, almost. But he kind of liked the feeling. Dream groaned, turning into his blankets groggily. He was hungry but he didn’t feel like eating. His heavy eyelids threatened to pull him into unconsciousness, but he didn’t feel like sleeping.

He wanted to see George again.

Patches startled, jumping across his bed as Dream lurched forward, rubbing eyelids feverishly.

“Oh my god.” He groaned. 

_What the hell was he thinking? Seeing George was a very very bad thing._

_It meant he was messed up._

Dream shut his eyes and allowed himself to return to his younger self. The road trip he and his mom had taken after school one day, parking at a physiologists office. He was diagnosed with ADHD, not even realizing what it was at the time. Dream had been nervous back then, leg fidgeting through the whole appointment as he looked around the small office wildly. Dream had never felt more claustrophobic.

He had kept asking his mom if he was screwed up. He remembered the smile she gave him, the quiet reassurance that she had given him while driving him home from Sonic his favorite slushy.

_“You’re perfect the way you are honey.”_

But it must’ve been a lie, it had only gotten worse since then.

_Hadn’t it?_

Naivety wasn’t lost to him, but he had done his research in High school. Studying hours into the night trying to study and discover more about his anxiety and ADHD through an AP Psychology class. It might’ve been boring, but it taught him a lot about various mental conditions and diagnosis’s.

Memories weaved past his train of thought, trying to recollect the categories “vivid hallucinations” could fall under.

_Schizophrenia._

His breath felt heavy in his lungs.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck._

Dream felt soft paws climb onto his pajamas, plopping down on his lap. His small cat mewed, and his hand fell to her fur, running fingers over Patches fur anxiously.

_Could he really-_

His knuckles gripped the sweater against his chest tightly. He forced a strained laugh, grip tightening on his clothing. Patches looked up at him, eyes wide with soft curiosity. He closed his eyes, trying to go anywhere but there.

Eyes. Skin. Mouth. Goggles. How easily George’s hand had fit in his. How soft his skin was.

“God.” He breathed.

The warm words exchanged between breaths. How easily it would’ve been to pull him in and kiss him under the streetlight.

He tore a hand away from soft fur and ran it roughly through his hair, breath hitched. Patches nudged her head against his sweaty fingers. Dream blinked, forcing the thoughts from his mind, and looked down at his cat. She looked at him and tilted her head, tail thumping against his bounding leg softly.

“I-“ he took a breath to try and calm himself, eyes fluttering uh the darkness. “I’m okay girl.” He assured her soothingly, running a hand on her head. He tried to ignore how shaky his voice was.

The familiar discord ringtone tune filled his kitchen without warning. He startled, perking up from the organized mess he had made on his counters. Dream set down his half made ham and mayonnaise sandwich and picked up his vibrating phone. His eyes scanned over the name and his heart immediately sunk. It was George.

He chewed the inside of his cheek nervously. He didn’t want to seem like he was ignoring George, though truthfully he supposed he was, or at least was trying to. They hadn’t really talked outside of a few stray text messages since bedwars. Dream swallowed. George didn’t do anything wrong, it wasn’t his fault, he’d just be making this more unfair to him.

He bit the bullet and accepted the call.

“...Dream?” 

There it was. The soft accent that filled his thoughts with a terribly happy feeling. He hated it.

“Hey, George.” He fought to keep his tone light, hands moving back to his half made lunch.

George hummed, “I didn’t know if you’d pick up.”

He felt himself smile nervously, “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know, you’ve just been acting... weird.”

Dream laughed, trying to shoo the knot in his gut. “How can you tell? We haven’t been on a call in a few days.”

“I don’t know, It’s just like, your vibe lately... it’s off.”

“My ‘vibe?’”

“I don’t know!” George huffed indignantly, “I-whatever, drop it.”

“No no, I really wanna hear about my ‘vibe,’ please enlighten me.”

“You’re so annoying, just shut up.” He groaned.

Dream laughed a little bit, pulling another piece of white bread from the bag.

“So, what’s up?” He spread a glob of mayo across a bread slice and let the knife fall into the sink.

“I’m about to stream on the SMP, wanna join?”

“Oh, sure, yeah.” He finished by placing the ham snuggly in between the two slices of bread, and taking a bite. His friend group might make fun of his “white” food selection, but it tasted good. 

“Anyone else gonna be there?”

“Well, others can join if they want, but I didn’t ask anyone else.”

Dream felt a smug smile tease his lips. “Ooh, I’m special!”

“You wish.” He didn’t deny it.

He grabbed his sandwich and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. “‘ll be on in a minute.”

“Good, I-“ He paused, before adopting a more accusing tone. “Are you- eating?”

“Well yeah, it’s one o’clock.” 

A sigh heavy with feigned exasperation filled the static air, “Okay well, hurry up.”

Dream opened his mouth to respond, but found that George had already left the call. He scoffed and couldn’t suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

“DREAAM!” 

“What? I’m-“ A laugh pushed past his lips, “I’m not even doing anything!”

“What do you mean, _‘not doing anything,’_ you’re literally chasing me!”

Dream immediately let go of the “W” key, his character going slack. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything.”

His green eyes crinkled in amusement as he watched George’s sprinting avatar tilt its head up slightly, checking F5 to see if he was still being chased.

“No- I-“ George sighed, dropping his sprint. His character turned around and hesitantly sulked towards his screen view. “you were. Don’t play dumb.”

“Even if I was...” he paused, smirking as a accented scoff cut through his words. “I couldn’t even do anything! You’re in full Netherite!” 

“You have better stuff than I do.”

“True, but it’s not like I can one-shot you, and yet you’re like, flipping out.”

“I don’t want you to kill me!”

He laughed, “I’m not going to kill you!”

George went silent, character pacing before turning to a nearby tree and pulling out an axe. He felt suddenly guilty, remembering why they came out here in the first place. He mimicked his actions, pulling out his own enchanted axe and getting to work. He didn’t talk, only small sounds of exhales filtering through the call. Dream bit his lip hesitantly, pressing the escape key and minimizing his Minecraft screen. He and moved his cursor to google hesitantly; he wanted to see his face.

_God he shouldn’t do this, he knew he’d only being pulling George farther into his shitshow of weird mental battles and emotions intentional or not. That was definitely something he didn’t want to do._

His fingers didn’t seem to care though. Dream blinked as his screen stuttered, loading into the dark twitch backdrop. Suddenly Minecraft covered his screen again, albeit a different screen. Bright vibrant colors of the blocky world flooded back to him. His eyes flicked to the corner of the screen and he felt his heart rate speed up.

George had on a light gray T-shirt with a loose collar, brown hair slightly messy with a soft smile on his face.

He took a breath, trying to calm his heart. “Don’t you trust me, George?”

The words slipped out, low in his throat, his mind overriding into panic mode. He didn’t know where that came from. 

George’s smile dropped just slightly and his eyes widened, sucking in his lip as his eyes flicked to his second monitor. “I...”

Dream sunk back in his chair, pulling up his Minecraft tab again. He whirled his view until he found George. He saw George’s avatar standing in front of him, then crouch a little. He walked towards him slowly, then raised his head to meet what would’ve been Dreams eyes.

“Of course I trust you, Dream.”

Dream felt himself smile, light heat dusted across his face. He knew George was just teasing for the stream, but him saying that, smiling so genuinely... he swallowed, bringing a hand to the warm skin of his throat. 

It did something to him.

“I’m glad then.” 

George smiled a bit wider, leaning back in his chair and ruffling the hair under his headphones.

_He’s so pretty._

He groaned and rubbed his face with his hand.

_Stop it._

“You good?” George laughed lightly. 

“Uh-yeah, I’m fine.”

George pursed is lips and tilted his head, red narrowing in concentration as he navigated through a ravine. “So uh, what’s with you and Fundy?”

Dream blinked, caught off guard. The topic seemed to come out of nowhere. “We’re together, why do you care? You jealous?”

George scoffed, “No, of course not. But whenever I see him he bursts into tears. Figured it had something to do with you.”

“Why’d you assume that?” He shot back, ever so slightly offended.

He heard George giggle. “I’m right aren’t I?”

Dream bit his lip.

He sighed, “Dream you’re such a heartbreaker.”

“It’s your fault!” He pleaded in exasperation.

“How is it my fault?”

“Because you,” A pause. He weighed how far he wanted to push this bit. “you stole my heart. I can only love you, George.”

Dream looked over to his monitor, where George’s face animated slightly, but only slightly. His eyes widened for a split second because he smiled and covered his face behind pale fingers.

“Oh my god, shut it.”

He watched as the chat exploded in excitement, words moving so fast he couldn’t make them out.

“It’s true.” Dream grinned through the words, shooting at an annoying skeleton in the distance.

George tilted his head, sliding his fingers to the indent of his neck. “Sure.”

He looked down at the Minecraft chat as messages appeared.

_Antfrost: sounds kinda sus dream_

Almost immediately Tommy chipped in, 

_TommyInnit: Dream please do not talk with men that is gross and men are gross._

They both laughed. “Wha-what the hell? is everyone watching your stream?” 

“I’m popular what can I say?”

“Don’t look so smug.”

George tilted his head, looking into the camera with a playful smile. “Why, don't you like it?”

_He felt a hand intertwined with his, the burn of lips to his cheek. The cool night air surrounding hot breath._

“You’re being-“ his voice cracked. Dream cringed, voice wavering unsteadily as he drew in a breath. “You’re being weird, stop being weird.”

The subtle intensity he felt behind George’s dark eyes faded slightly as he started up his game again.

“Okay, I’m the one being weird. Okayyy.” The sarcasm oozed in his voice, rolling his eyes as he moved onto another tree to cut down.

Dreams eyes scanned the others expression maybe a little too long, admiring his soft brown eyes, his stupidly perfect features. He felt heart melt against the invisible smile he could barely make out. George made him weak, something he was painfully reminded of over and over.

_How long had it been like this? How long had it been with him burying his emotions so far down to the point where his brain had created his own George to come up and kiss him awake?_

“Dream?”

“Huh?” He snapped to attention, realizing he had zoned out, entranced in his own thoughts.

“I was just saying I’m about to end stream, I’m a little tired.”

“Oh, okay.” He hit the escape key and left the game, leaning back into his chair and stretching.

“Bye guys!” George, who was now in full camera mode waved and smiled, his fingers blurring in between frames.

“Byeee!!” Dream found himself waving too, even though they couldn’t see it.

The stream refreshed, and he was gone. George yawned and groaned. “I’m tireddd.”

“So I heard.” His eyes flicked down to his watch. 3:09. “Isn’t it only like, ten for you?”

“Well yeah but,” George paused and yawned again, “I didn’t get great sleep last night.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.”

When neither of them spoke, Dream cut in. “If you’re so tired why don’t you go to bed?”

“Well I would, but then we’d be out of sync.”

His words found their way into his heart. He knew it shouldn’t have meant anything, but it made him feel special. _Important._

“I’ll go to bed early for you.”

There was a breath of hesitation that lingered. His fingers twitched anxiously against the silence. _Don’t make this weird, just-say something._

“Wow, you really are a simp huh.” Dream could hear the smile in George’s voice. His heart soared.

“Only for you.” His voice was softer than he intended it to be, and the stunned silence afterwards was deafening. 

George took a breath, lips ghosting over words and mouth agape. Dream could practically picture his tinted pink cheeks and lost eyes, staring back at his discord tab in confusion.   
  
Finally; “Yeah okay, whatever Dream.” He sounded more exhausted by the second. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight George. Sweet dreams.”   
  
The selfish part of him wished he could’ve said that in person.

He heard the quick discord ping echo through his headphones, and he was alone. His body heaved a sigh, hands pushing his headphones off his head begrudgingly. It was nearly two hours talking with George, laughing with him, and running around, yet it felt so short.

Dream turned off his monitor and sat up, legs aching with lack of use. He felt so stiff and awkward. He passed the shelves of fanart and sweet letters that made him smile, cascaded in the darkness of his room. He let himself fall into his comforters again, a familiar occasion he found himself doing more and more frequently. It knocked the air out of his lungs, but it was a strangely good feeling.

The room was warm, or maybe he was, he couldn’t tell. It felt nice to be warm, it felt nice. He curled up on his bed, spooling handfuls of soft blankets to his chest. 

George was laying in bed right now. His eyes opened groggily, staring at the other half of his empty bed. He wondered what he would look like sleeping. Peaceful, probably. Mouth slightly open and face half smothered in pillows, small wrists clutching to warm sheets. Close to him. 

He could wake up and see his face, scoot closer even, kiss his forehead and feel the soft warmth radiating off exposed skin. Lean down and whisper nice things into his ears as light trickled in from his blinds.

Dream forced his eyes shut. It was downright painful, what he was doing to himself.

It hadn’t even been three days.

He forced his face into his pillow, chest heaving at the lack of oxygen against his bed.

_Get out of my head._


End file.
